


Pure Bliss

by Arhtea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Identity Reveal, Murder, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 15:46:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16267343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arhtea/pseuds/Arhtea
Summary: On one rainy night, Theodore Nott comes knocking on Blaise Zabini's door, claiming he is in danger from his beautiful bride.





	Pure Bliss

It was late when the butler, Anderson, announced that Theodore Nott had come knocking on Blaise's door. At first the butler did not want to let him in or even alert his master but he relented when Theodore claimed that it was a matter of life and death. Blaise had been preparing to go to bed but agreed to see his old friend. He told Anderson to invite the man to his study.

Theodore looked dreadful. His clothes were dripping wet, his hair was a mess and he seemed a bundle of nerves. Without a word, Blaise poured out two glasses of his best whiskey and handed his friend one. Theodore took a rather large gulp before settling into one of the soft armchairs.

Blaise took his own favorite chair by the fire. He smiled at Theodore. "So, what brings you to my door at this hour?"

Theodore hesitated for a second. "I am sorry for disturbing you but I think…"—He took a breath—"I think your wife is going to kill you!"

The next few seconds passed in complete silence. Then Blaise burst out laughing. "My wife? My darling Adrestia is trying to kill me? Preposterous!"

It had been quite a surprise for his friends when he'd introduced Adrestia Burke as his beloved. Their romance had been quick; too quick for some. Yet Blaise and Adrestia had already enjoyed a year of pure marital bliss. There was no reason to believe she was out to harm him.

"I didn't want to believe it at first. I tried to find another explanation," Theodore nodded gravely. "But I think that she is the reason for all that has happened lately."

Blaise frowned and shook his head. "Surely you don't think that _my wife_ was behind what happened to Astoria and Draco? Or Greg? Millicent? Or maybe you want to claim that she was behind Pansy's poisoning?"

"My dear friend, that is exactly what I am suggesting." Theodore sighed. "Look, I know it's hard for you to believe but I'm begging you—hear me out. If I'm right then you might be next on the list."

The other man shook his head. "I find the mere suggestion that she would do this to be insulting, but for the sake of our friendship, I'll give you a chance to explain before I throw you out."

Theodore nodded. "I will. You mentioned Astoria and Draco, so I'll start there."

Blaise arched and eyebrow. "What of them? From what I understand, Draco cheated on his wife and then tried to kill her when she left!"

"I went to see him! In Azkaban. He said he only slept with one girl he'd met at a bar. He said that it was a mistake and he felt horrible the next morning. And not just out of guilt—he claims he was drugged."

"So some hussy fed him a love potion. What has that got to do with Adrestia?"

"Your wife's a metamorphmagus."

Blaise's hold around the glass of whiskey tightened. "What," he asked icily, "are you implying?"

"You promised to hear me out," Theodore reminded him. "Draco said at times he vaguely recognized her mannerism. The way her left leg is slightly stiff… How her hands shook when she saw his Mark. Things you can't fake."

"Plenty of people have that reaction. As right they should, to the worst tattoo you could possibly wake up with after a night out," Blaise said dismissively. He had always found Draco's following of Lord Voldemort pathetic.

"But it was you two who went over to comfort him after Astoria packed her bags and took Scorpius. He said someone had tampered with his whiskey. It was a potion that brought on a fit of madness that made him try to kill Astoria!" Theodore explained, pleading for his friend to see his side.

"Nonsense. A man acted out of desperation and jealousy and now claims he was influenced by magic!" Blaise replied, his knuckles white from grasping the glass just a bit too hard for someone who did not believe what he was hearing. "Astoria and poor Scorpius are lucky to be alive after he tried to curse them. He nearly killed his own _child_. And now he is spinning a yarn about potions and diminished capacity. He's trying to shorten his stay in Azkaban and I'll be damned if I let my wife get dragged through the mud because of him!"

It seemed a good time for more whiskey, so Blaise took the liberty of refilling both glasses. "But _do_ go on! Tell me how my wife caused Greg to be imprisoned in a padded cell."

"Greg was never truly a Death Eater—he just followed Draco. He _always_ followed Draco. And you know he changed after Vincent died." Theodore's hands shook so hard he almost spilled some of the whiskey. He decided to put his glass down.

"They found him standing over that Muggle-born's body! The last spell cast by his wand was the Killing Curse _._ "

"He had no reason to kill her," Theodore argued.

"And my wife did? Is that what you're saying?" Blaise demanded, anger evident in his voice.

"No… Look, maybe she wasn't even important. But isn't it all very convenient? The Aurors find Greg over the woman's body. She's been tortured. And Greg gets into a duel with the Aurors. Now he is in St. Mungo's in the Janus Thickey ward and he can't answer any questions."

"Oh, and let me guess, my wife was there and somehow guided him? Maybe she even used the Imperius Curse on him?" Blaise took a generous gulp of whiskey, as if to quell his anger before he lashed out. Theodore could almost see what he was thinking: It had been a shock to the wizarding world when Gregory Goyle went on a rampage ending with a dead Muggle-born and his mind lost from a stray curse. Everyone wanted answers. Conspiracy theories ran wild. And yet everyone ignored the easiest one—"It was the anniversary of Vince's death. Do you not think it possible that he just couldn't handle the grief and snapped?"

"A coincidence? Two of them might be. Two misfortunes befalling us. But Millicent? She was living in a house under _Fidelius_. And still somehow Rabastan and Rodolphus found her. They tortured her for hours. She's in a ward right next to the Longbottoms. They say she doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep. Sometimes she starts screaming and won't stop until they pump her full of sleeping draught!" Theodore hadn't noticed he had jumped out of his seat. He sat down quickly and emptied his glass.

Blaise shook his head. "You've lost your mind, mate!" What happened to Millicent had been horrible. After the war she had had to go into hiding because Rabastan and Rodolphus had focused on her. Apparently her Death Eater mother had fled some time before the final battle. The Lestranges had decided to take revenge on all who had deserted the Dark Lord, primarily blaming them for their side losing. Though more likely they went after these people because the real ones responsible—the Golden Trio, for example—were much too hard to get to.

Either way, Millicent had gone into hiding and still the Lestrange brothers had found her. They'd used the Cruciatus Curse on her countless times. They had done other, horrible things as well. They probably would have killed her if the Aurors had not gotten an anonymous tip and burst in before it was too late. Both brothers were captured but the damage to Millicent's mind had been already done. She was just an empty shell.

"She had a Secret Keeper. How could Adrestia betray her? You know how the spell works; she could have given them a map with a red circle marking the spot and they still couldn't have found her."

"What if she was the Secret Keeper?"

"That makes no sense. No." Blaise shook his head. "I never knew who the Secret Keeper was. But my wife? I introduced her to Millicent _after_ she had already gone into hiding." Yet his voice was unsure and Theodore realized his friend's belief in his wife was crumbling.

"What is it?" he asked.

Blaise filled their glasses a third time. "Nothing, it's just…" He sank back into his chair. "Millicent had a boyfriend," he confessed slowly. "She was very discreet about him. Never gave any details. But she could not hide that she was happier…I told my wife about him and if he was the Secret Keeper..." He took a sip. "But it's still preposterous. My wife…" He tugged at his collar as if to ease his breathing.

Theodore nodded and as he saw the small movement, realized the room had suddenly gotten very warm. He felt slightly dizzy. Maybe he shouldn't have drunk so quickly. "Go on."

Blaise bit his lip. "If—and I'm not saying my wife did it; I still think it's nonsense—but if she did…She could have tipped off the Lestranges about him..." He waved his hand as if trying to chase the thought away. "No. There's no reason for Adrestia to do that. Even if the boyfriend was the Secret Keeper, neither I nor my wife knew him. She could not have given those monsters his name. Maybe the Lestranges found someone to charm Millicent."

"Do you really think them patient enough for something like that? This took planning. It was premeditated! She had it all figured out!" Theodore argued.

Blaise thought for a moment. Then finally he nodded. "You have something else, I gather?"

Theodore smiled slightly. This was his trump card: "Pansy. She's dead."

"I know she's dead. She was roaring drunk on Firewhiskey, fell down the stairs and broke her neck."

"Except she didn't. She was murdered," Theodore replied victoriously. "I saw the notes of the autopsy. They said nothing was irregular but I couldn't believe that. I talked to the medical examiner. He didn't want to admit it at first. But then finally he broke. Someone paid him off to keep quiet! He gave me the real files." He reached into his bag and retrieved a stack of brown paper folders. "Look, here they are. See for yourself!"

Blaise accepted the files and flipped them open. They mentioned a high content of alcohol in the witch's blood. Not unexpected. His eyes moved down the page and stopped where detected potions were listed. Some were known to him as stuff healers would prescribe. Others… One of them he recognized as hallucinogenic. Another was a medicine but in the quantity that was found it would increase paranoid delusions. "Merlin, she was pumped full of more potions than an apothecary," Blaise blurted out. He tugged again at his collar and wiped the sweat off his brow.

Why was it so hot in the room, Theodore wondered, when the fire in the fireplace had almost died?

"That doesn't mean…" Blaise opened his mouth to protest, but found he had no strength.

Theodore reached into his bag and retrieved a half-finished bottle of Firewhiskey. "I took this from her bedroom. I contacted Blishen's and had them cross-check its product number with their sales records. Blaise, it's the same bottle your wife sent over as a condolence gift after Millicent was attacked! I know you don't want to believe this, but Adrestia is a potioneer. She could have brewed this stuff easily!"

Blaise gulped for air, the fight in his eyes dying. "My wife…" He coughed and cleared his throat. "But it doesn't make sense. Why would she?"

"Because her real name is Tracey Davis!" Theodore replied gravely.

Blaise paled. "No, it can't be. I would know if _she_ was my wife!"

_They had been just children. That was the excuse Theodore whispered to himself every night he could not sleep. In his heart he knew he was lying. They'd known what they were doing. Lord Voldemort was looking for those he considered unworthy. Everyone in Slytherin House knew what he'd do if he found any caught in a lie. And Tracey had begged them not to turn her in. She had begged on her knees after they found out she wasn't a half-blood but a Muggle-born. But they were scared. They were…_

_There was no excuse. They had turned her in because they knew that if they sacrificed her, Lord Voldemort wouldn't punish them. Pansy had been the one to utter the actual words. Gregory had grabbed Tracey when she'd tried to flee. Millicent and Draco had brought forward proof about her parentage. Daphne had stayed quiet to protect her own family. And Theodore and Blaise had stood by as she begged them to help her. As she dug her fingers into her boyfriend's robe, Blaise had just stared down, face emotionless and cold._

_They never knew what happened to her. Draco saw her briefly in the Manor. He heard her screams as she was tortured by Lord Voldemort's followers. She had asked him once to get a message to the outside. He ripped it up instead. Then she was moved elsewhere and disappeared. She was presumed dead long before the war ended._

_Theodore had suspected nothing before his friends had started dying—those responsible for her horrible fate. Why would he? Adrestia bore no scars. She was not a short brunette with eyes like emeralds. But then he'd remembered her most guarded secret, one that she had only shared once in the privacy of their common room after far too many glasses of firewhiskey. Tracey Davis had been a metamorphmagus._

Blaise finally managed to stand. "Anderson!" he yelled out.

The man appeared almost instantly. "Yes, sir?"

"Bring my wife downstairs. Make sure she doesn't have her wand."

Something like concern flashed on the old man's face but he said nothing, just bowed and left.

Blaise glanced at his friend. "Do you feel dizzy?" he asked as he saw Theodore struggling to stay on his feet.

"I'm fine. It's just nerves," Theodore replied, though the odd heat was getting to him.

Blaise was about to say something more but then Anderson was back, holding Blaise's skinny blonde bride by the neck with one hand and pinning her wrists behind her back with the other. He brought the woman to the center of the room.

Blaise forgot his friend's distress and stepped forward. "Hello, wife," he stated coldly.

Adrestia blinked, trying to focus on her husband. It looked as if she'd just been woken up. "What is the meaning of this, Blaise? Have you been drinking? Tell this brute to let me go!" she demanded.

Blaise responded by throwing his whiskey glass away and as it shattered with a loud crash, he grabbed Adrestia's chin, forcing her to look at him. "Theodore has been suggesting interesting things to me. He says you're behind all that has happened to my friends. That you orchestrated their current predicaments! That you slept with Draco Malfoy!"

Adrestia looked back at him, eerily calmly, then smiled. "The last one is the worst for you? If it's any consolation," she tried to lean closer despite Anderson's grip, "he's not as good in bed as you."

Theodore gasped behind them. He had not really expected her to confess. He'd just wanted to warn Blaise. He fumbled trying to pull his wand out. He had to alert the Aurors. She might be restrained now but she was clearly crazy and if she ever got loose… A stray thought came suddenly to the forefront of his mind: How had Blaise guessed Pansy had been poisoned?

Blaise's face softened as he brushed a lock of hair from his wife's face. "I suppose it's only fair given I had to take Millicent to bed more than once."

"What?" Theodore was having trouble following the conversation.

"Of course; how else could I convince her to take me as the Secret Keeper?" Blaise replied, his eyes still on his wife.

Adrestia turned to look at Theodore, her red lips curving into a cruel smile. "Tell me, Mr. Nott, did you enjoy your whiskey tonight?"

Theodore gasped. The heat, the struggle to breathe. He should have recognized it. But Blaise had had the same symptoms…

"You look a little green. You should sit down." Adrestia's voice was mocking. Then she addressed the butler: "You can let me go now, Anderson."

The butler obeyed and Adrestia reached out to pull Blaise into a deep kiss.

_Blaise had stood by as they dragged her away. He had let them take the love of his life because to fight for her then would have been useless. But as soon as she was gone, he had written to his family. He had gathered together every penny his mother had gotten from her ill-fated marriages. Greed was universal even in time of war. He'd spent fortunes bribing the guards but he got her out in the end._

Adrestia broke the kiss and pulled out a small vial from her pocket. "The antidote, my love."

Blaise took it and poured the black liquid down his throat. "Thank you, my darling!" he replied as relief spread through him.

She smiled and as Blaise led her to stand in the dying light of the fire, Theodore saw her features morph back into what he remembered of Tracey. Except now scars decorated every part of her skin; even her face was marred. Blaise placed a kiss on one of her cheeks, then slowly moved his lips down her neck. "What shall we do with the last one, love?" he asked between kisses. "Cut out his tongue and bind his will so he'll know the truth but not be able to tell it? Have him beaten until he bleeds? Leave him in the Forbidden Forest with his legs broken? It was considerate of you to pick a poison that wouldn't kill. Yet."

The last thing Theodore saw before losing consciousness was the pure bliss on the face of the woman he had wronged.


End file.
